Pebbles Polished, Diamonds Dimmed
by StrangeLittleSwirl
Summary: DG sets out for the college years, and a secret she’s been keeping from a certain Tin Man may come back to haunt her. CAIN appears. Finally.
1. Prologue

**Title: Pebbles Polished, Diamonds Dimmed  
Author: strangelittleswirl  
Pairing: Cain/DG  
Rating: This chapter is rated G.  
Summary: DG sets out for the college years, and a secret she's been keeping from a certain Tin Man may come back to haunt her.**

* * *

Once, at the Hilltop, a trucker by the name of Norton had chocked on a French fry, and DG had given him the Heimlich. They had called it a feat of bravery. DG had called it ensuring that she got her tip. She did, and a small article about her in the newspaper.

Then, she walked into work early one morning and had found another waitress on the ground, not breathing. She had dialed 911 with a cordless phone on speaker and performed CPR until the medics arrived.

So when Wyatt Cain fell over only a few moments after the eclipse and everyone sort of looked at him in shock, after Raw said he wasn't breathing, DG did the only thing she knew to do.

The room was starting to spin, but she continued to count out loud.

"_Please_," she begged out loud, and pitched sideways, feeling her cheek pressed against the cool marble. She was able to open an eye to happily note that the blonde man was sitting up and coughing. But at least that meant he was breathing.

A small smile formed across her lips, and it vaguely concerned her that it took a lot of energy to shape it, but then she slipped into the black.

DG woke with a start, gasping and sitting up.

"Ohnoohnoohnoohnonono_no_." It was one nice long word that trailed out of her mouth as she grabbed up clothing to throw on, cursing her stupid alarm clock. DG hopped as she shimmied into a pair of jeans that looked comfortable enough for the day. There was a sweatshirt on the back of her desk chair, and that would have to suffice, because she simply did not have enough time for a sniff test her shirts. It was cold in that room, anyway.

Orange juice was in a glass next to a bowl of brightly colored cereal. It made her smile.

"Ready?" came a voice from the door, and she rolled her eyes.

"Which one of you lucky boys is escorting me today?"

"Princess, all three of us will be escorting you, as usual," was the terse reply from the Short One. It was hard to remember the names of her Seven (literally) Dwarves. Well, there were seven of them. She did not mean that they were all dwarves. Except for Short One. Who was short. It always helped to be descriptive.

DG sighed. "A girl can_try_."

And off they went, crossing the two or three streets it took to get to their destination.

People would have that it was strange, for the girl to be followed around by three men into the building; they were all quite serious looking men. DG had heard about one of them making babies cry the second he walked into a room.

So it was a good thing no one could see them.

DG had gotten the idea for the device, which Glitch had made easily, from something she called "Doctor Who". DG said she wanted one too, to feel like Martha, but the former Advisor had enough control of his half of a brain to realize that giving the girl a means of disappearing was probably not a good move.

"So you keep doing that not-be-seen thing you are all so wonderful at, and I'll be on my merry way," she said, accepting the heavy book bag from Blondie. He nodded.

"Enjoy your lecture, Princess. We will be situated at the back of the room."

With a sigh DG started to climb the wide, white cement slabs that made the stairs to the ivy-covered building.

Another typical day of college life had begun. Typical for DG, but not for a college student.


	2. Chapter One

**Title: Pebbles Polished, Diamonds Dimmed**

**Author: strangelittleswirl**

**Pairing: Cain/DG**

**Rating: This chapter is rated G.**

**Summary: DG sets out for the college years, and a secret she's been keeping from a certain Tin Man may come back to haunt her.**

**Disclaimer: No ownie, just likie.**

* * *

It wasn't that the classes were hard; far from it. They were turning out to be even easier than her community college ones. And it wasn't her classmates, who were all kind and ready to make friends. It was the security detail.

Sure, she'd traveled with a bunch of male companions before, but these guys were just so horribly stiff and aloof that it was aggravating. It was like living alone, in a bubble, but not being able to walk around in underwear because the windows were always open.

Sometimes they talked, sometimes they actually had small conversations with her, but it seemed as if they were scared of her at times.

College was _boring_.

DG didn't have to turn around to know her three security guards were in the back of the room, occupying various and seemingly empty chairs. They were shadows-faithful and always at her side. And not in the good way.

And DG made it so easy on them, too.

At first.

Initially, she realized how unusual the situation was, and tried to keep that in mind; after all, these poor saps had previously been living in the comfort of the all-male barracks for Tin Man training, and the concept of shaving cream for legs was as foreign as those silly looking tubes of cotton with longs string attached at the end.

"You know," said one of the more bold guards one night as DG studied for biology, "like the sperm in the picture."

But, now, bleakly looking at three and a half more years of _this_, sitting in classrooms and watching as other people made friends and connected, went on dates and didn't have to worry about the seven men waiting at home, she was left with an overpowering sense of self-pity: it wasn't her choice to be a princess. Hell, if hadn't even been her choice to return. There were some days where she wondered if she would have, given the choice and knowledge she had now.

Martha, a outgoing girl who seemed to play social coordinator for the entire freshman class, slipped a paper on her desk during the fifteen minute break from the lecture, and DG looked up for her doodles, surprised.

"Could be fun," the girl shrugged, but gave her a winning grin. "Group of us girls are going later tonight, and since you really haven't gotten to hang out with us, we thought it might be nice."

DG hoped that the guards hadn't overheard, and gave the girl a smile. "I'll see if I can come."

"Great!" and the girl was off, blonde ponytail bouncing behind her.

DG glanced at the neon pink slip of paper; it was a Ladies' Night at a local club, and although the ad seemed to be advertising to a different sort of person, what with it's curvy silhouetted dancers, the other information sounded promising.

Like the guards would ever let her go.

The Seven (Non) Dwarves would rather she torture them by leaving something heinous like _The Notebook_ on ad nauseam (again) than allow her to go out. Ever.

But after class she tried.

"Oh, oh Great Grey Gale, no." 'Doc', the apparent leader of her guards, replied, fearfully. "If they're anything like the Mystic Man's show, there is no way you are going there."

DG waited for a moment, looking at Doc expectantly.

"No."

With a sigh, she slunk off to her room. At least there she had some privacy.

Well, it had been worth a shot.

DG sat at her desk and stared out the window, and felt miserable that this was the way she spent her college nights, cooped up in her house while her classmates got to go out and do whatever they please. At least before, Emily and Henry let her have some freedom. She hadn't been in a cage-a pretty one-like she was now.

She could hear the muffled sound of the television on in the living room, a floor below. Several of the guards had taken quite a liking to basketball, and watched it when they could. Big game on, if she remembered.

Studying finished an hour later, DG set about preparing her things for the next day. She had sunk so low as to actually be _organized_ and she realized that this was a new low. She literally had nothing to better at night than to organize books, put them in alphabetical order, and place them in her bag. She sharpened pencils and counted loose change and kept spare hair ties from sinking into the bottom of her bag. DG was prepared for things. While it was nice, it left her feeling restless and in need of something else.

Perhaps she should try to pursued Doc to allow her a motorcycle. Not even to ride it, she protested to the sudden image that sprang to mind of the man shaking his head and lecturing her. Just to mess around with, fix up. Just a way to get her hands dirty. Be a grease monkey again.

The pink slip of paper fell to the floor, and she picked it up. It was a little wrinkled now, but everything was still perfectly legible. With a tired sigh, she put it down and cranked up the volume on her stereo.

Doc-he had been one for many years, and her nickname made him smile- and one of the other guards, a fellow with slightly larger-than-normal ears, made there way up stairs, each holding parts of dinner on their trays. The princess had been in bad spirits since he had told her she could not go out to that 'club' she had asked about, and had not come down for dinner. While the men had enjoyed the chance to talk openly at the meal, this meant she had not eaten.

Back at home, in the O.Z., Doc had a girl just about DG's age, a little younger. He knew full well that they had moods and they were terribly dangerous things, strong and sudden.

Once, his Clara had locked herself in her room for two days before her supply of food had dwindled, and she had emerged red faced and puffy. A few hours later a boy on the other side of their village was found hanging from a tree by his feet, apologizing profusely. Doc swore he had no part in it.

"Princess, we have dinner for you," he tried to call over the loud music. When no answer came, he knocked. "Your highness?"

Perry-though the princess called him 'Dopey' and he sort of was-looked at his superior. "Perhaps she is in the shower?"

Doc shook his head. "Princess, I am requesting permission to enter. And if that doesn't work to get this door open, I am afraid I will have to enter anyway."

Dopey sputtered indignation at the second part, but Doc waited a moment or two, and when there was no answer, he twisted the doorhandle, relieved to find it open, and entered.

It was a pretty room, with pale colors and half-finished paintings propped wherever. It was immaculate compered to Clara's room. He faintly smelled perfume.

"Oh my Dear Dorothy, this is not good," muttered the older man, and he started to look around for some sign as to where the girl was, perhaps a clue.

"See? She's in the shower, sir."

The door was closed and the water was on. Doc sighed. Dopey was correct, for the first time in his life.

"Come on, let's leave this here for her when she's finished."

Martha's eyes widened and she pulled DG into a hug, which DG found quite strange because she had only interacted with her three times so far. Ever.

"You came!" she said excitedly. "And you look so _pretty_!"

"Um, thanks, wow. Hi." She turned and waved to the other people she recognized from a few of her classes. "Hey."

After several minutes of stilted, loud conversation, the group found they had a lot in common. It was actually sort of fun to hang out with them, DG thought as they crooned along with some horrific Aerosmith cover band on the stage. Sort of nice. She had never really made herself popular back in high school; if anyone it was the auto teacher who she spent her time with. The times she actually went to school.

After a few drinks and the bands entire set, the girls started to leave. One enterprising girl actually had wormed her way to the front of the crowd, and was now writing a number down for the lead singer.

It was only a few blocks to walk back to her house. Of course, gravity had been a major help in climbing down, but now? DG looked for a way to get onto the roof of the garage. When nothing else seemed to present itself, DG crawled on top of the dog house- a leftover from the original owners since Doc had shot that idea down mighty quick-and jumped to reach the edge of the garage roof. She clambered on.

Her leg brushed up against some leaves, and when they got caught to her leg, she tried to shake them off. Down they fell.

"Oh God, _no_," she moaned, freezing.

Doc looked up from his coffee. "D'ya hear that?" he asked quickly. Dopey, who seemed to follow him around quite a bit, shook his head. Doc threw down the newspaper and headed towards the porch.

From her spot on the roof, DG could see Doc making his way closer to the porch, and her inevitable discovery. With hurried footsteps she made her way across the garage, but then had to retreat and take a running leap to clear the distance between her window and the roof. Suddenly, the last drink was a bad idea.

But she made it, elbows and jammed into the open window in an attempt to keep herself from falling. DG's eyes widened as she realized the silky material of her jacket wasn't allowing enough friction. Her elbows popped out of their resting places along the window's edge and she frantically clawed for at the ledge, feet kicking against the side of the houses, as if they'd propel her upward.

"Okay,_that_ I heard, sir," said Dopey, calling to Doc from the living room.

Doc made a quick about-face and started up the stairs, closer to the sound. Something was fishy.

"Oh,_please_," DG begged no one in particular. This was not how she wanted to go. Or get hurt. Maybe if she just...

That was the trick. She started to work her feet up the side of the house, using the siding to her advantage, and used all of the strength she possessed to get her arms to pull her up. Finally, she was able to crawl though the window and land in a sweaty heap on the bathroom floor.

There was a knock at her door. DG froze.

"Princess, is everything alright in there? I thought you showered earlier."

There was no answer. Frowning, and putting a cautionary hand on his holster, Doc started to open the door.

But DG wrenched it open, pink and wet, her robe wrapped about her.

"Sorry, didn't hear you over my music and the shower, Doc," the girl said breathlessly. "Something wrong?"

The man raised an eyebrow. "Shower was on hours ago."

DG stared at him blankly. "Oh. The shower. Right."

"Reason why a girl sitting in her room needs two showers?"

She blinked. "Well, actually, I'd rather not discuss it, but if you really want to know, I've been having _really_," and her eyes widened with that, "bad cramps-time of the month you know- and'"

But Doc had already started to tune her out, and had taken a step away, hands up in surrender. "No need, Your Highness, just checking on you."

She gave him a relieved look. "Thanks, Doc. G'night!" And the door was shut.

DG leaned against the door after she shut it. That had been close, but diving into the shower seemed like the appropriate course of action. And it appeared she had been correct.

And now, soaking wet, her underwear and t-shirt clinging to her, DG felt a sense of accomplishment. She had snuck out of the house, gone to spend time with a group of really nice people, and had made it back without detection.

Now, it was simply a matter of planning her expeditions around big basketball games.


	3. Chapter Two

**Title: Pebbles Polished, Diamonds Dimmed  
Author: strangelittleswirl  
Pairing: Cain/DG  
Rating: Overall? Probably R, but each chapter will be a bit different.  
Summary: DG sets out for the college years, and a secret she's been keeping from a certain Tin Man may come back to haunt her.  
Disclaimer: I don't own, I just play with. **

* * *

Simon Laciter looked up at the petite princess, frowning at the small bottle she put in her hand.

"It's allergy medicine," she explained. "Take one every morning, and it should help with the-" her hand gestured towards the center of her face-"you know."

He stared at her retreating back.

Two weeks after the scuffling noises outside and anyone could see things had improved. The guards had even noticed she seemed to have a sunnier disposition, and while the girl wasn't a highly emotive person, they could see the changes.

One day she even surprised them; she asked to be taken to a store, and an hour later they were leaving with a flat screen TV for the living room. She even purchased large speakers that she said would improve the sound. They had to admit, working for the princess was a cushy job.

And while she was spending more hours in her room at night, they couldn't argue. The girl wasn't causing trouble, and they hadn't had to take care of any problems yet.

So why, he thought, with a sniffle, did he feel like something wasn't right?

* * *

It never took much time to do the work for class, and as long as she properly waited the twenty minutes after the game had started, then she could leave and be back before they ever noticed.

And as she let her Probability book shut with a satisfying little noise, DG stretched her arms over her head and let out a small yawn. Tonight was a movie night with a group of her classmates, some foreign thing they were all into.

Her hands fell back onto her desk, and she studied the skin just below her right palm. Funny, how the skin had healed so quickly. It had been bruised shortly after everything-the CPR bruise, as it was called. It had hurt for a week or two before it had finally started to lessen, and then disappear. At least while it was there she had something to show for what she had done.

Because Cain had left the next day, and Jeb had followed, and then Tutor had tried for a straight week, the poor man, but it was to no avail. DG still remembered how her mother finally, and sadly, gave into her father's suggestions, and then DG was taking trips to the Other Side to shop for school supplies and buying college textbooks.

"It doesn't matter, it's only for a short time, darling," her mother said. "Just a few weeks, probably."

Well here she still was, more than half a year later. The guards had come over with her initially, and they were all still very understanding; after all, the Queen had asked them to guard her daughter, so vulnerable in a world that was so foreign to her. DG had insisted that college couldn't be that strange compared to anything else she'd been through, but her mother's lips and thinned into a worrying line, and DG knew to stop pushing it.

So back to preparing for the movies. DG crossed the room to her closet and pulled out something that sort of went together. To be honest, she had always been a shirt-and-jeans sort of girl, and those frilly outfits she had to wear at the palace? No thanks.

It didn't take long to get out of the house, now that she was a pro at it. And the trick was to tie her sneakers to the bag on her back, crawl down quietly, and then put them on. Her friends would pick her up three blocks away, and she'd be off to another merry night. Everyone had a peculiar friend, and quite frankly, DG did not mind being that one for her little group. It meant her erratic behavior was allowed, and since DG had never really been _that_ social, it all worked out rather well.

"You are going to _love_ this film!" said Martha as DG dove past Gregory and Sammy, two people she thought should just go and date already. He was a member of the Young Republican's club and Sammy had been arrested after she had protested something, and strangely, they both got along very well when not threatening to kill the other.

"It's about the 1932 uprising in El Salvador, and the director will be there, and oh my God, DG, it's so poignant," said Sammy as she pushed the girl's legs off of her own.

"Yeah, that is _definitely_up my alley. Martha," DG called, leaning in between the two front seats. "Why am I coming along?"

"Because you are a good friend, and we will all get credit from the prof for going, so you're going to sit there and enjoy it," she responded, sternly.

DG settled back into the seat. "Yes m'am. And I won't fall asleep, either."

* * *

"DG missed dinner again, sir."

Doc looked up wearily from his crossword. "What is a five letter word for pandemonium?"

"Crazy?"

The man shook his head. "No," he sighed, standing up. "Let's go bring her some food. Girl was in the shower earlier, and while I know she's at the end of that horrific span of years called puberty, two showers within four hours is not necessary."

Laciter followed Doc up the stairs, trying his best not to dislodge the contents of the tray with some errant sneeze. The allergy pills worked most of the time, but there still some times when they just didn't-

The door was unlocked, so after they knocked and hadn't received a reply after a good long wait, Doc opened the door.

The room was empty.

The music was on.

The shower wasn't.

It was quiet clear that DG was not in the bathroom or he room. He had not heard her exit the room into the hallway, either.

"Chaos," he said quietly.

* * *

DG sat up in her chair, taking in a long breath that could have been loosely interpreted as the strange merger of a gasp and a snore. She looked frantically, at her watch. Gregory was trying his best to find sleep next to her.

"Greg, is the basketball game over?"

The young man looked over at her, and held up his cell phone. "My team was brutally destroyed by Sammy's half an hour ago. Why do you ask?"

She elbowed Martha, and started the impossible attempt of crawling out of the row past some art students without being noticed. She didn't even care if he didn't know what she meant. "Because I am Papay food, that's why!"

* * *

"I want you two patrolling the neighborhood. Start with the first few blocks, report back, and then starting searching the next area after that. Spiral pattern. Call out loud and see if she responds. You three, I want every last inch of this house searched. That means the crawl space in the basement and the roof itself," Doc turned on Laciter who had fallen into that second group. "No excuses about allergies!"

* * *

"Can't you drive any faster? Don't you have hyper drive or something?" asked DG as she bounced nervously in the passenger's seat. Martha looked askance.

"I'm sorry, I didn't opt for that upgrade. Seriously, DG, what is wrong with you? Don't tell me they still have you on a curfew or something."

Of course, in all of her discussions with her friends, she had never specified who 'they' were. She hadn't known how to. Two guys watching her? Easily explained. Three? Possible as well, and the subject of a movie. But _seven_? Seven had been too many.

The car came to a shrieking halt outside her door, and DG threw herself out of the car with a yelped 'goodbye'. She took off for the back yard.

* * *

Doc set about pulling out his jar of Storms, as well as preparing himself for the conversation that would ensue when he reached Central City. This would not look good on anyone's part, but most specifically, on his. The emerald color jar-the glass had to be that color, something about preserving the Storms-was heavy in his hands.

Doc stepped onto the back porch, letting it shut behind him. In the distance, he could hear two members of the guard calling out to the princess. There was a field a short distance away. He'd have to let a Storm loose there if he didn't want to damage any property.

But then there was the dry sound of feet on a rough surface, and Doc whipped around.

"Whose th-Princess?"

She was standing on the old dog house's roof, hands outstretched for the garage's drain pipe. She froze, and even in the dark, he could see her blue eyes widen in surprise.

"Doc!" she said shrilly. "Uh..."

The man raised an eyebrow.


	4. Chapter Three

Title: Pebbles Polished, Diamonds Dimmed  
Author: strangelittleswirl  
Pairing: Cain/DG  
Rating: Overall? Probably R, but each chapter will be a bit different.  
This Chapter: PG, minor cursing, like really minor.  
Summary: DG sets out for the college years, and a secret she's been keeping from a certain Tin Man may come back to haunt her.  
Cain finally appears!  
Disclaimer: I don't own the characters, I just play with them.

* * *

"Do you know what could have happened to you? Do you know who could have found you? Without us there, who knows what would have happened."

Doc was pacing in front of DG, who was sulking on the sofa. She was slouched and starting at the blank television screen behind him.

"And just getting back into your room! You could have fallen."

"No, I wouldn't have," she retorted.

"And how do you know that?" She sat up, hands hitting the cushions.

"Because I've never fallen before!" And as it left her mouth, she realized the mistake. Doc turned slowly and while he never yelled, she sort of wished that he had.

"You mean that you have-" Doc's whole frame seemed to collapse and he ended up in the large chair behind him, hands covering his face. " This is like arguing with Clara," he muttered. "DG," he said with a tired sigh. "You aren't making it easy for us to protect you if you decide to sneak out at night. The Queen was worried about you being on this Side to begin with."

"And what she doesn't realize is that I took care of myself for over _ten_ years before I ended up in the O.Z. again. Going back didn't make me fragile or anything."

"But if you just...If you had told us that you had wanted to go out-" He was trying, really, she could see that, but it didn't stop her from shaking her head.

"You had already said 'no'. And I've been fine! I've made some really great friends, and we all go in a group, and we never go anywhere that isn't safe. I ran away when I was a kid, Doc. Me and a friend made it all the way to Kansas City. And I know that doesn't sound like much, but for two teenagers, it was _something_. And I know how to go with what my gut says."

"But, DG, you're a _Princess_."

She sighed, and looked away in an attempt to keep the tears starting. "And that means I have to forfeit my freedom? For a tiara and a carriage? I don't _want_ it. I wish-," and she stopped herself.

_I wish things could go back to the way they were before all of this. I wish Gulch had just given me a ticket, impounded my bike, and life had gone on. I wish it was still the same._

"You were born a princess, DG, and nothing will ever change that. I know this is hard, being a young woman is hard," and with that he took her tiny pale hand into his large, dark hand ones. And the sympathetic expression on his face brought a new wave of tears to the surface. DG had to hold back a pitiful whimper. "But you need to see that running away like that isn't going to help us to look out for you."

"You know, you would totally kick Doctor Phil's ass," she said with a shaky laugh, and Doc laughed.

* * *

And an hour later, DG had agreed to their terms. Laciter was relieved to find that he wouldn't have to be searching the attic for princess again any time soon (the other guards had started calling him 'wheezy' instead his normal nickname) and Mika Bonsun was ecstatic to discover that in the future, there might be outings.

DG didn't say anything as she watched the men close her windows-permanently. All it would take was a phillips head to take back out the screws keeping her windows from opening, but she knew she should behave in a more mature manner than that. After all, Doc had promised to not report the incident to the Queen as long as it didn't happen again.

And it didn't. At least now, she could interact with her friends during the day. And at least once a week she was able to go out with them, now with her detail nearby.

But the collar was chaffing her. It was hard to enjoy her time with her friends when she knew right behind her were at least three large men who would pummel any male who got within three feet of her. Her friends were starting to notice the anti-male vibe, and were starting to ask questions. She didn't know how much longer she was going to be able to keep the 'good girl' act up.

DG lasted three weeks.

* * *

"Oh, come _on_, DG!" whined Martha, clutching at her books and giving DG a desperate look. "It's not that big of a party. And I promise you'll be safe."

DG shook her head, turning to her friend from her laptop. At least in the library, the guys gave her some room. Borris-large and brawny-was glaring at the blonde girl from his place by the Steven King book display.

"You know I can't go, Martha. I have church on Thursdays."

The girl gave her a skeptic look. "What sort of church meets on Thursdays?"

DG shrugged, averting her eyes. "My church."

Martha sighed and waved to her friend, disappointed. DG bit her lip and went back to her paper. There was no way the boys would let her go, and there was that one guy, with those wonderful blue eyes, and he'd be there.

Why was it so hard to have a normal social life? Wasn't that part of this whole deal? Send her to college so she could come back and handle any of those diplomatic affair, with the cocktails and the little appetizers and the forced laughter at horrible jokes? She was seriously missing out on experiential learning.

DG didn't feel as upset as she thought she would, slipping out of the window later that night.

* * *

Percy Bolt sat up on the couch, rubbing sleep from his eyes. "Sir," he said, voice thick with sleep, to Doc. "Did you just hear that?"

Doc looked up from his chess game with Laciter, who was losing, miserably. He looked at the ceiling, hearing the creaks just as well as the other man. "Yes, I certainly do. And I also know that Mitch Austen has the watch right now, so there are no problems."

But then Mitch Austen shuffled into the room, eyes averted as he walked into the kitchen. Laciter, Doc, and Percy all watched him.

"Mitch," Doc said, finally. "Aren't you on watch right now?"

The man shook his head, not really making eye contact. "No, Sir. It's Borris, Sir. He's got the watch."

"No I don't," came a voice from around a corner, angry and growling. "I watched her earlier."

Doc ran a thumb over one of the chess pieces. "And it's Mika's and Hugo's day off."

Laciter voiced the question no one else in the room would. "Then who is watching the princess?" he asked, with a sniffle at the end.

All five men tore up the stairs, stumbling over one another to get to her room. Along the way, Hugo and Mika both emerged from their rooms. "What's going on?," yawned Mika. Percy jealously eyed his pajamas.

"Princess is missing!" declared Doc as he exited the girl's room, with a tired sigh. He'd expected something like this, sooner or later. She'd been chomping at the bit.

The men looked to him for guidance.

"Alright," he said, massaging the bridge of his nose. "I want two of you to follow her; she hasn't gotten that far, and if I heard correctly, she's going to that party. The location is here," he said, handing the paper over to Borris. "I want you to shadow her, no tipping her off that you're there. The rest of you stay ready as possible back up. This is just some college party, and my gut feeling is that she will be fine."

"But," said Hugo, slowly. "What about you?"

Doc started towards his room. "Taking a Storm. Got a Queen I have to go talk to about something I really wish I didn't need to."

* * *

DG crawled into her bed, a little drunk and sweaty. She'd just take a nap now, and worry about showering in the morning. Besides, the next day of class was Friday, and a movie analysis. Easy stuff.

It wasn't like anything important would happen.

* * *

"I see," said the Queen, sadly, as Doc finished. "And I apologize for any troubles that my daughter has put you and your men through."

"It's partially our fault-," started the doctor.

"Damn right it is," someone barked. Doc whipped around in his chair to see a blonde man unfold himself from the shadows and stalk over to him. "Seven of you and you can't keep track of her? That's careless. That's sloppy."

Doc's parents had raised him with the belief that you shouldn't insult or give a retort unless you at least knew the name of the person. "And you would be?"

"Tin Man Vida, this is Tin Man Cain, who had accompanied my daughter after she returned to the O.Z. He is very much a reason why the O.Z. is now on its way to recovering." While the Queen explained it all smoothly, it was not hard to see she did not like this Cain fellow's manners. Cain gave Vida a curt nod.

"Well, Tin Man Cain, I fully acknowledge that we are at fault, but that's just the thing: seven of us is too many. We stick out like sore thumbs, and communication, so vital in this sort of operation, is lost. Seven men doing the work of one does not always work out for the best."

"Well said, Doctor. Although, if I know you, as I believe I do, you have no doubt come up with a solution to all of this."

Doc settled into his seat and stared into the fire. His next words had to be carefully chosen. "I was hoping, your Majesty, that we could perhaps get a smaller detail for DG, as well as a younger one. I do believe that the new semester is soon to start, and if a guard was young enough, he could enroll in the classes as well."

"Age is no concern, Tin Man Vida. It is a simple glamour that can fix that sort of thing. I do believe finding a Tin Man who can tolerate and keep my daughter in check will be more of a difficulty."

Cain's answer was voiced the second that Lavender eyes had finished her sentence.

"I'll do it."


	5. Chapter Four

**Title: Pebbles Polished, Diamonds Dimmed**

**Author: strangelittleswirl  
**

**Pairing: **Cain/DG**  
Rating: **Overall? Probably R, but each chapter will be a bit different. **  
This Chapter: PG,** minor cursing, like really minor.**  
Summary: **DG sets out for the college years, and a secret she's been keeping from a certain Tin Man may come back to haunt her.

DG looked around, nervously. Half the night had gone by and there had not been a single sign of her being followed. Either the boys were getting better, or she was.

Martha came back over, sliding into the seat next to DG. "You are good, honey!"

DG looked up from nursing her beer-just one tonight-confused. "What do you mean?"

The girl cast a martyred glance towards the ceiling. "I mean," she said, twisting DG's head to face the bar. "There is a guy over at the bar asking about you, and you aren't even wearing anything remotely attractive. Meanwhile," and at this she gestured at her front. "I'm in my best Boob Shirt and can't get any. It's sad, really."

DG squinted, trying to make out the figure at the bar. "Think I should?"

One of the other girls, Tomoko, raised her glass. "Damn straight we do!"

"Well then," the petite brunette said, sliding out of the booth, all the while knowing that this was fairly stupid. "Wish me luck."

Getting through the crowd was a bit difficult, but DG finally managed it. She had promised herself the other day she was going to try to get along with it, since what she deeply, secretly wanted was in no way possible.

With one last nervous tuck of hair behind her ear, she approached the man stooped over the counter. She reached out a hand and tapped the broad-shouldered person.

He swivelled around on his stool, and DG stepped back, gaping.

"Wha-why are you here, Cain?" Even in the dark, it only took her an instant to discern it was him.

"Apparently, you cannot be left with just anyone to watch over you. Nice job there, walking over to a complete stranger in a dark place where no one will see that you are missing."

DG tried to protest, but really there was no excuse. She waited for him to continue.

He slipped off of the bar stool with a tired sigh, and put a hand on her upper arm. Even with her jacket on, his fingers reached entirely around her upper bicep.

"Come on," he said firmly, "we're leaving."

The van, with Doc behind the wheel, was waiting in the parking lot, and DG could see the disappointment on his face as they approached. She ducked her head as a feelings of guilt and immaturity washed over her, coating her and settling in like the fine mist currently making its way down. She pulled herself up and across the seat.

"Hi, Doc," she said, lamely.

He didn't answer. DG bit back the tears.

She'd screwed up, and big time. Assuredly, they were on there way back to the O.Z., and long hours spent doing nothing, and she'd go mad until they found a dignitary, who would probably be pink and portly and diaphoretic, to marry her off to. And then she'd be alone and mad.

The princess felt her heart beat a little quicker. She had to get out.

But Cain was smart. He had put her in the seat farthest from the sliding door, and seemed to be trying to take up as much space as possible. DG looked over at him. Something was different- perhaps he had lost weight while he had been gone- because he seemed more wiry than the last time she had seen him.

But now was not the time. This was the time to plan a way to make a run for it. The minute it took them to cross from the van to the door after they parked was her only chance.

Doc put the car in park, and DG swallowed. Cain slid the door open, and got out with a little less grace than she would expect for him to have. He stepped out of the way, hand outstretched automatically to help her out.

She took a few extra seconds to get out, making sure that her feet were evenly beneath her as she put a hand on Cain's shoulder as if she was about to awkwardly maneuver herself out of the car. This calmed him, as it meant she was obviously not going to try anything stupid.

Perhaps Wyatt Cain did not know her very well, she thought wryly.

DG sprang.

Because 'sprang' was the only word for her track meet-worthy leap that landed her in the grass of the front yard, and from there she took off across the vast expanse of manicured green with long strides.

The brunette had made it a significant number of yards before she became aware of the Tin Man pursuing her. It had been so stupid of her to skip gym class to smoke with the auto shop boys under the bleachers. Her lungs burned.

"DG!" came a gruff voice from behind her.

"No!" she screamed as the arms locked around her waist and she was propelled forward. Cain had tackled her. Actually freakin' _tackled_ her.

She was wheezing before she even had more of the breath knocked out of her from the force of hitting the ground. There was an attempt at rolling onto her back to kick him off, but it wasn't working. She struggled against him. There was no way she was going back. None.

She felt and heard the footsteps coming, and she saw the bouncing beams of flashlights across the yard.

"Who the hell is that?" came a nasal voice, followed by a sneeze.

"Get him off of her!" came another.

Wyatt was yanked off of her by the back of his shirt, and DG was drawn up by the burly arms of Grumpy. Dopey was tripping his way towards them.

"Boys!" Doc was crying, but they were too busy trying to identify the would-be assailant.

"I'm a Tin Man, Wyatt Cain," he was trying to explain, and Hugo snorted, looking at the men.

"Right," he said, sarcastically. "Because you're old enough to be a Tin Man. Entry age is 22, genius. And you don't look much older than that."

The brightness of the light from the flashlight blinded Cain, and he winced. DG leaned forward, gaping.

"What the _hell_ happened to you?" she asked, eyes wide.

The younger, but certainly no less severe looking Cain glared.


End file.
